Common Ground
by TraceAce
Summary: (Spike/Anya friendship) Anya meets up with Spike in a bar and they talk--yes, the plot is as simple as that..LoL.


Common Ground

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything in this story. I wish I did, but I don't. LoL.****

**A/N: **There's never any Spike/Anya friendship stories—so I wrote this pointless one! I think it starts after Tabula Rasa. ^^ Yep. Enjoy. Feedback is welcomed.

                "Spike."

                He twitched at the voice that was twinged with a bit of an annoyed tone. He sighed loudly, wishing he could just get away from Buffy and her little group for one second. It seemed whenever he didn't look for them they always seemed to find him, even in demon bars.

                But he kept forgetting, this was a girl who was once a demon.

                "Anya." He responded, not raising his eyes to regard her. Instead, he kept a steady gaze on the liquid he was drinking. He wasn't in much of a talking mood. Actually, he never was, unless it included a certain Slayer that was at that point giving him reason to drown his sorrows in shots of whiskey.

                "You're trashed." Good old Anya, always blunt. He finally looked then, and saw her slide into a bar stool next to him. "I'll have five of what he's having."

                The bartender stared at her for a moment, trying to see if she was joking or not. She kept an impatient glare on the bartender who finally shrugged uneasily and got to work on her order. Spike couldn't help but give a small smirk. It seemed to him she was having a bad night too, but he decided that he didn't want to bother listening to the story.

                He knew the basis, anyway. After a hundred years, you didn't drink for fun. You drank to make any sort of pain go away.

                He went back to his own world of self-pity, the events of the last few days swirling in his head. Where did Buffy get off totally messing with his head again? It was enough to make him want to kill her—and it was especially sweet because of the fact he could now. He silently wondered if Anya had heard about any of it yet—probably not. He was tempted to tell her, to embarrass Buffy, but he decided against it.

                So much for being evil.

                "What's your problem?" the voice jarred him from his thoughts. He glanced at her to see her take a shot of the liquor.

                "Should be asking you the same thing, luv." He replied.

                "Buffy?" she asked, ignoring his comment.

                "Whelp?" Spike asked, ignoring the questioning she was giving him.

                She took another shot of the liquor. That was enough of an answer.

                "You know, drinking a lot when you're alive is a bit bad for you." He smirked. She shrugged.

                "Like I give a shit." She responded. He raised a brow.

                "All ready smashed. Heh, not much of a drinker, are you?"

                "I'd appreciate you not laughing as I drown my sorrows in whiskey, thank you very much." She huffed.

                "Does Mr. Manly know you're here drinking?"

                "No." she rolled her eyes. "He got all mad and stuff at me and I just left."

                "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you sitting next to me in a bar."

                "You know, I can't take being human anymore." She shook her head. Spike sighed, it looked like he was in for a long banter about her glory days. He knew she was known for that.  "One minute I'm scorning all men and making them pay for all their wrongdoings and smiting all the evils they have done and the next I'm stuck in this stupid town helping some girl kill a bunch of undead people. I ask you, where's the justice?"

                "I know what you mean." Spike took a shot himself as he thought about his own history in the town. "Well, the second part, anyway. Not into scorning men, considering I am one."

                "Whatever." She muttered, sounding increasingly unhappy. "And look at me, I used to be what men feared, but I can't even scare an idiot like you. I mean, do I scare you at all? Boo?"

                He looked at her and couldn't help but laugh.

                "You're really not good at cheering people up, Spike." She let her head rest on the bar.

                He rolled his eyes. "But I'm not really a man, am I?" Maybe if he'd just agree with her she'd go away so he could sulk some more alone.

                "You know, you're right." She perked up at this thought. "And anyway, it's not like you can scare anyone anyway. You have the fear factor equal to a fuzzy little kitten."

                Spike noted to himself never to try to cheer her up again. "Thanks." He muttered.

                "I mean, you can't even go close to someone when you're all fang—"

                "I get your point." He replied testily.                 

                "You know Spike, me and you, we have a lot in common." He held his tongue as he almost let out an annoyed groan. She was definitely tipsy all ready, and was becoming more and more talkative as the drunkenness progressed. "We used to be big bad people who everyone was afraid of—now we're all washed up, drinking because of some stupid humans."

                "Who says I'm drinking because of a human?" he asked.

                "Oh come on. I might be drunk, but I'm not stupid." She huffed. "The only thing you do is follow Buffy and drink."

                "I smoke too." He quickly replied, defensively.

                "Anyway, so what'd she do this time? Push you away from another kiss like she did during that stupid sing-a-long day?"

                Spike looked at her, shocked. "You saw that?"

                "Of course I did. You know, at first I couldn't actually believe it, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense." She twirled the drink she had in her hand idly. "She's always shown that mild attraction to you, even though she probably would never actually admit that. We Vengeance Demons see things like that though. I've seen worse pairings, anyway."

                "You didn't tell anybody, did you?" Spike asked.

                "As much as I would have loved to see Xander's face, no." she smirked. "It's not my business to tell."

                "Good." He calmed down a little.

                "Psh, you men are all the same." She sighed loudly. "You know, it took me months to get Xander to even tell anyone we were getting married. I couldn't even wear my ring! What's the big deal?"

                "Well, the Whelp was always high strung." Spike smirked. "But with me, I'm doubting she wants anyone to know about it."

                "Which is why you are now drinking your weight in whiskey, right?" she smiled, proud that she perceived that even through her slightly intoxicated stupor.

                "No." he replied shortly.

                "Then why are you?"

                "Do I have to have a bloody reason?" he was getting testy. She rolled her eyes.

                "Males." She muttered under her breath. "If I was a Vengeance Demon still, I probably would have zapped the lot of you all ready. You, Xander—"

                "Hey, no woman leaves my crypt unsatisfied." He replied with a smug grin as he ordered another round.

                "Right, I forgot, because all men have their girlfriends leave them for Chaos Demons. How silly of me." She smirked.

                He twitched at that memory. He had been so involved with everything happening with Buffy he had totally forgotten about Dru. He said nothing but silently focused on his drink.

                "That's what I thought." She said after noting his silence. "You lost your edge, and so did I. That's enough reason to drink, you know."

                Spike made a face. It was sort of sad that Anya actually was making a little sense even though she was pretty drunk. He silently wondered why he was cursed with this lot of idiots. He went from a vampire who all Slayers feared to a mere shell of his former self. It was depressing enough to compel Spike to drink a few more shots, get good and drunk to numb the embarrassment.

                "But I think going good happens, especially if you're real evil." Anya mused. "I mean, after so many years, being evil gets old."

                "I didn't want to ever be considered 'good'." Spike scowled.

                "Don't use that 'I have a chip in my head' excuse. You don't need to kill to make chaos." She smirked. "And also having a huge crush on one of the heroes of the Earth doesn't really help your whole 'I'm evil' attitude. You're just using the chip as an excuse to be good."

                "I barely even talk to you, how would you know?" he asked, quickly getting defensive again.

                "I wasn't punishing males for all these years for nothing." She shrugged.

                "Anya!" Spike turned his head to see Xander staring at them sitting together.

                "Great." She mumbled under her breath. He walked over to her.

                "What's this? You're all drunk. And you're with Spike. Those two things should never come together in a sentence." He pointed out.

                "Actually, that was two sentences." Spike smirked.

                "Stay out of this." He glared at Spike, who shrugged.

                "Well he's better company then you are, especially on our anniversary!" she huffed. Spike let out a groan, so that was what it was about?

                "I was looking all over for you." Xander explained, ignoring Spike. "I didn't forget. I was going to surprise you."

                "You were?" she asked, suddenly upbeat. He nodded.

                "You left so quickly I couldn't tell you." He explained.

                Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh this is too disgustingly sweet." He slapped down a bill on the table. "I'm out of here." He walked past them, but suddenly felt his arm caught. He turned to see Anya looking at him.

                "Hey, thanks for hearing me out."

                "Whatever." He replied, a bit uncomfortably. He turned again and left.

                "What was that about?" Xander asked, scowling a bit.

                "Nothing, sweetie." She grinned, almost stumbling over her own feet as they walked out after she forked over some cash for the drinks. "Just finding some common ground."

                "Spike and you having common ground? Right, like that'd happen." Xander smirked.

                "You'd be surprised." Anya mused, hanging onto his arm for balance.

                "Let's just get you home, all right?" he patted her shoulder.

                "You know, bunnies are the most evil things on Earth." She nodded knowingly.

                "Of course they are." He agreed uneasily.

                Xander sighed, boy, first Spike, then the bunnies thing again. This was why he never let her drink. He caught her just as she was about to fall again. It was going to be an interesting night.


End file.
